RadianceParadoxon
by olansamuelle
Summary: Set during 1x12  'Revelations'  and 1x13  'Kill them all' . Life is filled with fortune in the house of Batiatus. But Dominus strives for perfection. / Perfection does not come for them.  Two one-shots put together as one fic . M to be safe.


**Title: **Radiance / Paradoxon

**Pairing: **Batiatus / Lucretia. Crixus / Lucretia / Batiatus.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **originally written for the livejournal community bloodandsandfic's 2010 Drabble table. Radiance prompt: Mush. Paradoxon prompt: angst. Put them both together because in a twisted Spartacus way, they belong. **For those who did read the original: **added a new scene at the beginning. Some other changes in the rest, including references to characters from the prquel.

**Summary: **Set during 1x12 ('Revelations') and 1x13 ('Kill them all'). Life is filled with fortune in the house of Batiatus. But Dominus strives for perfection. / Set after 1x13 ('Kill them all'). All it knew was love. Why then that man would do such a thing?

_**I. Radiance.**_

The Syrian slave stood before the pool as he waited to be summoned. A smirk edged his lips as he mused about how much things had changed for him only a day before.

A woman's voice interrupted him. "Dominus awaits."

Ashur raised his eyes and widened his smile defiantly as he watched the raindrops fall from the opening that fed the impluvium. "The fucking heavens weep rain for Ashur's rising." There was a tinge of rancour, despite the glee that filled him. The slave turned and followed Aurelia, recalling the moment where Crixus had attacked him before the very eyes of the legatus, sealing his downfall, carefully crafted by him taking opportunity and his swift mind by hand. Now he could look down to the sands and shit back all that had been taken from him.

_May you rot in the same sands where you sought glory, Crixus._

Smiling, Ashur rearranged his new tunic as he followed Aurelia towards Dominus' office, not losing sight of the petite woman and her delicate shapes.

He had to cover the point where his cock met the woollen garment as he entered the room, forcing it down and chastising himself for bearing such thoughts for the widow when he was before his master. Now that he had free way into any cunt in the villa, but Ashur reminded himself to let those desires unleashed when it was time. As accustomed, he bowed his head. "Dominus." And awaited the commands to come.

_**OOO**_

Batiatus reread the list, making sure the most important items for the market day were on the list; the increase on the usual quantity of grain for her diet, the oil from unripe olives to provide anointment and the incense, which had always exerted a calming effect on her. The cost in coin would rise as the number of things written on the parchment. "That fucking midwife better be right with this," he muttered, seeing two figures approaching with the corner of his eye. The slaves.

"Dominus."

Batiatus crooked his finger and motioned the Syrian to approach. "Come." And gave him the list, which the slave promptly took and read. "Make sure all supplies are procured accurately."

Ashur read the parchment. It was but a list of things to buy in the market. "Apologies, Dominus, but I thought you had summoned me for more relevant tasks. A simple slave can–" He regretted his words the moment his imprudent tongue spoke them. Dominus' lower tone reminded him of his place.

"Bring. The. Fucking. Things."

"Of course, Dominus. Apologies, it will not happen again."

"Make certain it shall not, I am not putting up with cocks-be-damned shit from any other fucking slave with a mind attached to his mouth in this ludus. Are we clear?"

"Of course, Dominus."

"Then go. And take Aurelia with you, she is familiar to those things."

Ashur looked at the slave, standing pale and concealing her emotions. Aware of the implications made by Dominus' command and of the slave's recent condition, ripe seed no longer in the womb, he bowed his head and exited the room with her.

As soon as the Syrian and Varro's widow left, another slave girl entered. Spartacus' whore had performed as expected from her, and as Lucretia trusted her and so far the slave had served her well, Mira had been rewarded for her services taking Naevia's place. Ashur had warned him of her feistiness, but Aurelia, a former citizen, was too raw in the works of a slave to be placed so soon in the most important slave post within the villa. Perhaps in a future. Lucretia would certainly appreciate having a Roman girl at her service. For now Mira would have to do. He sighed again. Summers had passed and still not a worthy replacement for Melitta. "Is Domina awake?"

Mira shook her head. "She still rests."

Batiatus sighed. The first lights of the morning were long gone, and Lucretia always rose with them. Bearing concern, he stood and walked towards their bedchamber, first with quick pace, then slowing it down as he approached the room, careful not to wake her when he entered. His eyes soon found her shapes, slowly moving at the rhythm of her breathing, and as he turned to her side, Batiatus was greeted by half open blue eyes framed in black circles and a smile defying exhaustion. "Mira said you were asleep."

"Only half." Still smiling her hand reached to touch his chest. "Certain sandals came stomping on the marble."

The remark drew a chuckle from him as he leaned down and kissed her temple. "I walked silently." His thumb caressed the pale cheek of the face that refused to stop smiling.

"You most certainly did not."

Still concerned on his wife's condition, Batiatus placed his hand on her forehead, frowning when he found the skin warm.

"It is nothing to be worried of, Quintus." Lucretia grabbed his hand and led it to her belly. "The seed remains where it should, firmly growing. This is just a phase, worry not."

He disagreed as he let his hand wander over the slightly curved surface, the mere thought of life within inviting a smile. "A child should have his mother healthy and glowing, not confined in bed with fever and a rebellious stomach." With those words, he took of his sandals and slid inside the bed, resting on his side to allow Lucretia to snuggle against him. As she did, he let her scent to fill his nostrils. "I miss my wife," he whispered. "I want her by my side."

"Your desire is shared." Lucretia breathed deeply as she felt the warmth from Quintus' body make contact with hers, bringing comfort. "Your presence already soothes this child."

"Such is my will. I am glad someone at least obeys it absent protest."

Lucretia turned her head in question.

"I sent Ashur to the market to fetch oil, grain and some herbs for you as commanded by the midwife. Fucking Syrian still had words to say."

"Ashur may serve well, Quintus, but he still bears the tongue of a serpent and a mind as quick as Mercury."

"The mind gets tired of slaves with a tongue of their own, Lucretia. I wish I could shit my words and have the slaves eating them without the slightest protest."

"You rule this ludus like none of your ancestors did, Quintus, and your name sees itself elevated beyond their boldest dreams. Now rest, I have been deaf to the desires of this child, who wishes the father close."

"A wise Roman, he already is."

Lucretia smiled, and ignoring her husband's implication of the seed growing to be a boy, she moved closer to him and tangled her hand in his as it rested on her midsection. "So what does our wise child say?"

"That I should spend more time caring for his mother if I want my stolen treasure returned."

"And what would that be?"

The words were gently whispered. "My wife's radiance." A kiss. "The sun of this house back in its proper place."

_**II. Paradoxon**_

_I was given life. I was told I had been coveted. I was told they had yearned for me._

_I heard my mother's whispers when she confessed to me her carnal sacrifices so I could be inside her womb, growing strong and healthy._

_I felt her loving touch, as well as my father's, the joy in their souls and their warmth when thoughts were on my existence, many times referred as a miracle. In the beginning they had been almost afraid to dream I was real. Then they feared no more, and happiness dwelled inside for as long as the day was._

_It was beautiful._

_Laughter and pride for the mere fact that I lived, eagerness to see my face, to make me smile, to teach me everything they knew and give me anything they could._

_Father said I would be a boy, and caressed me with his protective hands. He also said that I would have an empire, and mother laughed._

_I was special, so I was told every day. That there would never be one like me. I heard voices speaking of me and to me with tenderness and joy, virtues of which I felt myself filled with, as I did not know of anything else._

_Mother. I loved her touch, when she placed her hands over me, marvelled. Her warm voice singing softly to me in quiet moments._

_Quiet moments._

_One day I heard a man speaking of them. Of having a child of his own. Mother's heart beat faster when she was with him, and shared a secret with the man who spoke of children and quiet moments._

_I was his._

_I could not hear his voice again, for my mother's heart beat louder when he spoke. By the time it settled, the man I heard was again the one whom I had been calling father, the one with ambitions and joy._

_Later there was noise, and confusion, and many things happened. And then there was silence._

_A quiet moment._

_I heard the other man's voice again. My real father. Mother did not want to share any more secrets with him. He was angry. I think. I had never felt anger before, but now I remember it very well._

_Anger and loss was the last thing I felt before my father killed me._

_**Fin.**_


End file.
